


Maps and Mountains

by dawnstone



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Age Difference, Canon-Typical Violence, Dogs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Epistolary, F/M, Gift Giving, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), May/December Relationship, Minor Female Hawke/Isabela (Dragon Age), Slow Burn, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26211049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstone/pseuds/dawnstone
Summary: Loghain only survived the Landsmeet because Solana needed him to help her fight the Darkspawn. He never expected her to soften towards him after all he'd done, much less become his friend, and, in time, over a great distance, so much more than a friend.
Relationships: Female Amell/Loghain Mac Tir, Loghain Mac Tir/Warden
Comments: 22
Kudos: 27
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	1. The Road Ahead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crisis_Project](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crisis_Project/gifts).



> Character notes and a Thedas Calendar can be found in the End Notes.
> 
> The song I listened to too much for this one was "Mountains" by Bat For Lashes (https://youtu.be/kpS-1jsCpzE).

Under a cloudless summer sky, Solona’s handsome mabari, Jack, loped ahead of their horses. The great, ruddy-furred war dog looked positively blissful for having gotten to fight alongside them, after a few weeks inaction, which gave Loghain a chuckle.

Loghain liked Jack, and the feeling seemed to be mutual, which pleased him quite a bit. Mabari were notoriously tetchy about people who they didn’t consider part of their family. Even if he wasn’t that, it was good to have a friend.

They’d won yet another small skirmish—just a few genlocks this time—which they had been called upon to eliminate earlier that morning. Now, it was peaceful and Solona was explaining her future plans while Loghain’s mind drifted.

Glancing over, he could see Solona had a slim eyebrow raised and was fixing him with an irritable glare. She was a petite, pretty woman with dark hair and bright eyes. The word that came to mind was delicate, even if he knew better. Delicate in the way that vines carved into steel were delicate, perhaps. He was no poet.

What amused him about her—and there was little enough that made Loghain grin—was that despite First Enchanter Irving’s high praise at her skills, his first impression of Solona Amell had been that she was green as grass and sure to die in the coming battle.

Then he’d not thought about her at all, until the signal fire lit the sky at Ostagar.

She’d done it, of course. Probably could have done it from across the bailey with her magic. Needless to say, he’d revised his opinion since.

“You’re not even listening, are you?” she groused.

He let his half-smile fade and regarded her with the deference she deserved. “I am. You said—in brief—that once the rest of the darkspawn are rooted out and enough suitable recruits are found to man your keep, you intend to hare off and seek a cure for the Calling. Impossible. I suspect the Wardens would have found it by now if there were such a thing… Warden-Commander.”

Solona had received her letter of promotion yesterday and would be heading north soon to take charge of Vigil’s Keep in Amaranthine.

He was going to miss her dog, and... perhaps her as well.

The Grey Warden leadership in Weisshaupt had yet to give him an assignment, and for now he was Anora’s to command. Maybe they were still debating what to do with him. They’d issued him a uniform, however—silverite armor emblazoned with griffons, the softer parts dyed dark blue. He could not delude himself that he’d been forgotten. Not that he was wearing it. He wasn’t quite ready to retire the enchanted armor he'd won so many years ago.

“You’re right that they’ve had plenty of time. But I think I know a bit about doing impossible things, Loghain.” Solona smirked at him. She didn’t need to list off her accomplishments, he was well aware of them. Particularly the bit where she brought him to his knees in front of all of his peers.

“From past experience, I must concede that whatever stands between you and your cure certainly has no chance if it must fend off your silver tongue, woman. Perhaps one day she’ll tell the child about me.” Loghain smiled coolly at her, and Solona’s face reddened. They both knew what he was referring to.

He still half-wondered if she’d used sorcery on him to get him to lay with that witch.

Unexpectedly, her expression took on an anguished cast, the cockiness she’d displayed before disappearing. “I’m sorry I put you in that position. I trust Morrigan. She’s very dear to me. If I could have done it myself, I would have.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He’d not travelled with them long, but the bonds she had built with her odd band of companions were easily evident. In that, she reminded him of Maric yet again. She shared his rare gift of inspiring loyalty.

“She wouldn’t have asked if it were worse than what we were trying to stop, I promise you. Wait, what are you grinning at, old man?”

“You didn’t have to keep me alive after.” He’d deserved his defeat. Lost sight of what was important and nearly destroyed the land and the people he loved. For some reason, after all of that, she’d let him live. Loghain didn’t understand why.

“I’ve told you before, we needed—need—as many Wardens as possible. There are still darkspawn, the other two Archdemons are still out there. The Maker let you live through the Joining, you’ve had your judgment for now.”

”No other reason?” He’d hashed out his reasons for his actions for her at length already at her asking. A strange feeling having to explain himself to this woman who was younger than his daughter. Stranger still that he’d wanted her to understand. Had she not been born a mage, he had little doubt she could have wed herself to Maric’s bastard and taken Anora’s crown.

Anyone else he knew would have had his head on a pike. Truth be told, he knew astonishingly little about her.

The reins on her horse’s bridle jangled, as she pulled short to a stop in the middle of the road to regard him. Luckily, there were no carts or convoys behind them for her to block the way of. He rounded his mount to face her, and she looked up at him, shoulders squared, back straight, as tall as she could make herself. Braced for a fight.

He’d not exactly meant it as a challenge, but she’d taken it that way.

“Spite, then, if you like. Alistair thinks I did you an honor. He still can’t wrap his head around what the Wardens are. He didn’t take the time to read the things I have. The history, the accounts. We’re tainted, vile, bound to the Void. Allowed to lie, cheat, steal, murder, take anyone, anything if it slows down the Blight. Kill to hide our secrets. We need people like you who know that sacrifices are necessary, that sometimes all you have in front of you are horrible choices. They need people like me to beat your kind back when you cut too deep.”

That actually stung, but Solona wasn’t wrong.

“Why did you become a Warden to begin with? I’m surprised your First Enchanter let such a talented person go to almost certain death.” Loghain tried not to think about magic too much, other than on how to counter it. Such power was disturbing for anyone to have, and she had a great deal of it.

He still bore marks from when Solona had trounced him soundly at the Landsmeet. Bruised and burned from head to foot, despite the protective runes on his arms and armor and his years of combat experience. All ultimately useless against this upstart mage who built an army under his nose.

She laughed. “Pride—no, it was foolishness. Irving dangled freedom in front of me. I thought I was being rewarded for my diligence, after exposing one of my colleagues as a blood mage. You met Jowan, I think. Idiot. But I was a fool too, followed Duncan like a lamb. Now, you and I, despite the lack of my crimes and the mountain of yours, we are somehow equal. We’ll both die ripped apart in some dark hole someday, the Calling ringing in our heads, and the deepstalkers will chew on our bones. That is, if I can’t fix this. If I can’t, you’re going down with me, old man.”

Face flushed, eyes full of fire, her anger and fear were palpable. This woman had already seen as much of battle as he had when he’d been her age, if not more. She wasn’t shaken easily.

Loghain gave her a nod. “I didn’t think you’d go down without a fight.”

“Not on your life,” she said sharply, and turned her mount back towards Denerim.

Two days later, she rode north without saying a word to him in the interim. A week after, his orders arrived. His new post would be in Montsimmard of all places. But first, he would have to secure a list of resources which included cached weapons and darkspawn blood. They were going to give him to the Orlesians, and make him run errands the whole way there. Lovely.

She was right. This duty was the farthest thing from an honor, but it was what his mistakes had bought him.


	2. To Exile

The path to Montsimmard took him to Amaranthine first, a lively port city in northern Ferelden, though much smaller than Denerim. The place bore deep marks from the Orlesian occupation even after so many years, with fortifications built in the foreign style, and bakeries that still sold the long loaves the invaders had favored. It was briefly the capital of Ferelden, while the pretender sat the throne.

Loghain wouldn’t stay long. His superiors expected him by the end of Justinian, which gave him just under two weeks to cross Orlais. Mostly by sea, thankfully, it was a long hard ride by land. He wasn’t that youth who’d lived as a fugitive anymore. Even if he’d not let himself go completely soft, he’d grown fond of certain comforts that the life of a Teryn provided. That wasn’t his life now, either.

It wasn’t his first time to this part of Ferelden, having visited Howe in the days before he’d proven to be such a poisonous ally. Even from a distance Vigil’s Keep looked to have been sacked recently—trampled and burned foliage, a collapsed wall, broken carts and a mauled horse dragged to the side of the road. Darkspawn filth everywhere. 

For some reason the creatures weren’t retreating to the Deep Roads now that the Archdemon was slain.

Once he’d stated his business and was waved past the gate by a youth—who either did not recognize him or care to acknowledge that he did—he could see broken timbers and tumbled stone littered the courtyard. Loghain could smell the foul, oily smoke from a bonfire somewhere too near, where they had to be burning darkspawn corpses. The Warden-Commander’s retainers were hurrying about, working hard at making the place livable again. It was still in better shape than Gwaren when he’d first arrived there all those years ago.

He was met by Solona’s seneschal, a grey-haired man by the name of Varel. The man's expression shifted into disdain the moment he realized who’d crossed his path.

“So it’s true. Our Warden-Commander brought the fallen Hero of River Dane into the order. Perhaps you’ll serve the Wardens better than you did Ferelden in the end. What brings you here? Hopefully not staying long.”

Loghain hadn’t expected a warm greeting, but the man couldn’t even bring himself to say his name. Probably a veteran of Ostagar. “No. I’ve only a few items to hand off to the Warden-Commander, and I will be off. Is she present?”

“She’s taken her recruits out on a field mission, but I’m afraid I can’t share the details. I expect they’ll be back by nightfall.”

‘What happened here?” He’d heard the broad details from Anora, after her visit, but seeing the scale of the damage was different.

“Darkspawn came up through some old tunnels underground. Most of the men here were killed. The Warden-Commander arrived before the entire Keep was destroyed. Saved my life,” Varel confessed.

“She’s good at that.”

“Something we can agree on. If you’re in need of provisions we’re very low on everything here, you’ll want to resupply in the city proper. It would probably be best if you wait in the main hall.”

“Ah. Understood.” The seneschal didn’t seem to want him to get too comfortable. Thus, he found an out of the way pillar to lean on, and took to sharpening one of his daggers while he waited.

As predicted, the Wardens rode in after sunset, dogs barking to greet them, while a group of servants hurried outside to take the horses. Her companions dispersing behind her, Solona strode in, mabari at her side, and immediately began delegating. She spoke to Varel while a woman took her weapons, placed them on a rack, then started unbuckling her armor. Varel bowed away, and turned to whatever task he’d been given. 

Loghain watched solemnly, glad to see she had matters well in hand. It took a few more moments for her to notice him loitering in the shadows. 

She straightened her tunic as she dismissed the last servant, then made her way over to him. 

He noticed her pretty face was marred with a half-healed gash over one cheek she hadn’t troubled to heal. The dust of the road clung to her skin and hair, and the odd thought crossed his mind that he found her more striking that way. At best guess, her expression was bemused and tired. 

“Loghain? I wasn’t expecting you.” She crossed her arms, and looked him up and down, apparently taking in that he’d finally donned his uniform. The armor had belonged to someone else before him. He’d found the sections in the torso plates that were newer than the rest, and the stains of old blood even a thorough cleaning hadn’t been able to remove from the leather straps. For not being custom, it fit him almost too well.

“Just passing through. I see you’ve already started restoring your ranks. Leadership looks good on you, I think.”

Her face flushed at the compliment and seemed to leave her off-balance, which he hadn’t intended. It only took a moment for her to recover.

“It’s temporary. You know I have other plans.”

He snorted. “I suppose we shall see. And now that I’ve paid my respects, Warden-Commander. I’ve a few things here for you, courtesy of the First Warden.” He took a scroll from his belt pouch which had the inventory on it, and handed it to her, and then gestured to a large bundle near his feet. “Weapons from the cache at Denerim, and ten sovereigns for supplies, if you’ve need of them.”

“Such things are always welcome. I’ll have to send a raven with my thanks. Oh, that reminds me. I found something in the Deep Roads not too long ago, that made me think of you. Let me go get it.”

Loghain blinked after her, surprised. She returned quickly after rummaging in a chest in the far corner of the hall.

Holding out a long cylinder which looked like a map case, she grinned up at him. “For you. There’s no use for it here, and I recalled how much you liked the other maps we found while on the road together. It’s pretty old, but it’s not crumbling. Some sort of preservation spell on the case.” 

He took it, undid the toggle and extracted the roll of thick vellum inside. The map proved to have a colorful rendering of the Free Marches dated from the Glory Age. Beautiful clean lines and notation, fanciful beasts ornamenting the corners. More decorative than practical though. Probably commissioned by Fyrrus during his attempt at carving his own empire out of the Marches, if he recalled the history correctly. She could sell this for quite a bit to the right person. Just the case itself was quite valuable. 

Solona put her finger under the mark for a city which sat north of the Storm Coast, across the Waking Sea. “My family is from the Marches. Kirkwall, actually. My mother’s uncle was viscount there for a time,” she said, watching his face. 

Now he knew where he’d heard her name before. She was a noble from a prominent if fallen family.

“I remember Dumar got the throne after some rash of scandals there—mages, smuggling, a broken engagement.” A merchant from the north spun the tale to Maric and he during a long ago banquet. The Amells had seen much misfortune. “Your magic is what brought you to Ferelden, then.”

“Yes. All of my siblings are mages, too, truth be told. We were devastated when my eldest brother was taken away by the Templars. And a few years later, I was passing colored lights to my sister and brother and they’d pass them back when we were supposed to be asleep. We knew what was going to happen to us, might as well have fun. Soon, all five of us were at different Circles all across Thedas.” She recounted it with the calm of someone who was at peace with their lot. 

“The Chantry’s tactic to strip away any sense of allegiance to your homeland and your family. A cruel fate.” He could not imagine himself separate from the land that had birthed him, and did not particularly want to. Leaving was so incredibly bitter. If he’d died at least he’d have been burned in Ferelden.

Solona shook her head at him. “Probably better for both Ferelden and the Marches that I got to learn to control my abilities. Better for you by far.”

“That is debatable. They’re stationing me in Montsimmard,” he said, and let the map curl back in on itself. 

“Exile to Orlais, ouch. But not unexpected. Poetic justice even.” Solona’s smirk drove a thread of despair into his chest.

“Pleased to know I won’t have a moment’s peace? Then again that seems to be part and parcel of being a Warden.” 

“You haven’t run away and you could have. I respect that.”

Loghain sighed deeply, disappointed that she thought he might. He was being given a chance to work off his misdeeds, no reason to bring more dishonor and shame upon his family. 

“And I appreciate that you’ve allowed me some dignity despite everything. You’re too kind.” He brandished her gift between them before sliding it back in the case. Time to be off. 

As he turned to go, she grabbed his arm. “Wait. I do have a favor to ask. Since you’ll be travelling to Montsimmard anyway. I’ve a sibling in the Circle there—my twin, Daylen—I’d like you to carry a letter and a book to him. The news recently reached me that he made it through his Harrowing in one piece.” She said this with an aura of pride.

“I seem to recall that's a good thing?” He was fairly certain it was some manner of dangerous test mages took. And now he would be not just a pack mule for the Wardens, but for the Hero of Ferelden, too. Who had a twin.

“Without getting technical, mages are tried on whether we can be trusted not to invite a demon into our heads at the first opportunity. Though it can still happen of course. Demons are tricky.” Her casual smile was terrifying in how eagerly she accepted that this was something commonplace enough to be concerned about.

“Wonderful. I suppose I don’t have to actually go in, the Templars can hand it off.”

She held up her hand at his scowl and made a sweeping motion. “Not so quick. Ask to give it to him on my behalf. If you’re polite, you’ll have at least one person in Orlais who probably won’t hate your guts. He’s trained as a healer, your job is to be a human shield between the world and the darkspawn. Could be a useful person to know.”

Loghain sighed. “I’m not expecting the Orlesian Wardens to be particularly welcoming. Very well. If I told him you are a friend would that be true?” Their last conversation, weeks ago left him with the impression she still had quite a well of vitriol reserved for him. But now this. 

“May I count on you to come if I call upon you?” She glanced up looking at him sidelong, drawing on that fierceness she had again. His heart jumped at it. It seemed sometimes like she and Maric had been cut from similar cloth.

“You saved Ferelden, Solona. I’ll come if it’s in my power to do so,” he said, bowing his head slightly. 

“Good, then you can tell him such. Are you leaving tonight or shall I have Varel set up a cot? I fear the amenities here are a bit sparse at the moment.”

He shook his head. There was no reason to abuse her hospitality or irritate the seneschal. 

“I think it would be best if I were off as soon as possible.” 

If necessary, he would camp outside Amaranthine for the night, and in the morning he’d hire a ship to take him the length of the Waking Sea, deep into the Orlesian Empire. 

“I’ll get those things together for you to take then.”

Soon, he was at the gates of Amaranthine. By sunrise he’d sold his horse, had his last mug of Fereldan lager at the Crown and Lion, and passage to the last place in Thedas he wanted to be.


	3. Selected Letters 9:31-9:40, Dragon

28 Solace, 9:31

L,

I’ve enclosed a copy of the report which I sent to the others, so you’re up to date with what we’ve been dealing with. We’re still investigating, but I think we’ve quashed the source of our troubles. You’ll understand once you read it.

Yes, I know this is breaching protocol. I need someone else to see this in case the leadership decides to pretend it never happened. We keep too many secrets as it is. There are strange, horrific things going on beneath our feet, and no one seems to care.

Most importantly, we managed to protect the city, though the keep took heavy damage. If it were up to me, I’d just move somewhere else and start over. The land was gifted to us though, so we have to fix it up. We’re going to be living in tents for a while. At least I have my dog, and the cold won’t set in for a few more months.

On another note, my brother wrote me back to let me know he received his gift. He asked how I came to know such a hard-faced old coot. I’m going to guess you did not tell him very much, but that is your right. I told him to help you if you are in need.

Do not let him join the Wardens.

S.

* * *

12 Haring, 9:31

Warden-Commander Solona,

You’ll have to forgive my penmanship as it is not so elegant as yours, but your last letter deserves more than a one line response.

I am continually amused at the volume of letters awaiting me upon my return from the field. Between you and Anora, and my few remaining friends' correspondence, I suspect Warden-Commander Alisse is growing envious.

She is disappointed too that I didn’t turn my nose up at the dirtiest tasks she could find for me when I first arrived. I grew up on a farm, does she think necessary work is a punishment? Alisse doesn’t have the manpower to waste my efforts on truly pointless tasks. In that I am fortunate.

I’ve recently been given a patrol with three other Wardens, which takes us out into the Dales for weeks at a time. Every jaunt out I see more elven ruins, and feel more justified in my actions. Perhaps not all of them, but if you were here I think you’d understand. It is a haunting and dreadful place, and shows just what the Orlesians are capable of. The Dales are my fears made real.

Of the matter which you asked me to investigate, I’ve spoken to the archivist here and she has found a few things of interest which I’ve had copied for you. That business Maric was involved in with the Wardens did not quietly disappear. I hope what you claim is true and the threat has been dealt with for good. Sadly the darkspawn seem to act more like a miasma that crops up again and again rather than beasts to be slain. Be on guard always.

The snow will slow this from getting to you for a while, but I do appreciate the news from home. If I learn anything new, I will send word as soon as I can.

Yours,

Warden Loghain Mac Tir

* * *

30 Kingsway, 9:32

L,

You can probably guess what is enclosed. It should help you in the backcountry.

S.

* * *

8 Harvestmere, 9:32

Solona,

My thanks for the map of the Dales you sent. The topography is significantly more accurate on it than on the one the quartermaster here provided, despite its age. It even seems to have been drafted before the Exalted March. Quite a few cities the Orlesians completely wiped out are on here which I was unaware of. I hadn’t realized the scope of the bloodshed till now, or what the old names were for that matter.

I expect you’ll hear about it from him as well, but I finally had to call upon your brother. One of the Wardens in my patrol was injured badly in a recent skirmish with a band of hurlocks—got a gut wound and it festered. The healers here gave up on him, but I’ve seen men survive worse in the right set of hands.

Daylen waived the fee as you asked, and did as good a job as you said he would. He made some inquiries about life as a Warden, and said it seemed exciting from your stories. You were right to be concerned. I promise I told him it was mostly marching about in the wilderness in terrible weather, when we weren’t slogging through dank filthy caves. He seemed mollified, but perhaps if you do not want him to Join, you should downplay your heroics.

The Montsimmard Circle is as opulent as any Orlesian palace, and it made my skin crawl every moment I was there. I am glad to have Theron in one piece, nonetheless. He's a Dalish, and one of the few people here I can commiserate with. Your foresight has saved a good man, and a friend.

With all gratitude,

Loghain Mac Tir

* * *

6 Kingsway, 9:33

L,

So it finally happened. I had to send one of my Wardens on their Calling.

I’ve seen so many die with less reason, why does this one bother me? Perhaps it’s just been too quiet.

Carolina was only with us for a year—it took her quickly and without warning. We didn’t have time for much ceremony. I wish I knew what triggered it. She was a good Warden, she didn't deserve to lose herself like that.

Why do some of us get to keep going, and others just fall where they stand? I’m sure you’ve wondered that plenty on your own.

And why were you the first person I thought of when it was over? You condemned yourself, why should I worry?

But I do. I shouldn’t, but I do.

I think about you so much more than I should.

You said in your last letter you are always watching for my ravens these days and it’s a terrible distraction.

I can always stop writing, you know, don’t tempt me.

S.

* * *

15 Kingsway, 9:33

Solona,

I managed to read between the teardrops.

Don't ever believe you didn't do enough. I've watched you, you take care of your people better than most take care of their own families. Better than most of them deserve. This is something out of our control and we have to accept it. We rise in the morning and take on the things we can.

I do wish I were stationed closer, that I could come comfort you. Bring you a bottle of something strong.

If you must think about me, then know that you are often in my thoughts, too. Your letters are among the few bright spots in my days, and I would miss them dearly if they stopped. 

Please don't worry for me, I am hale enough.

You did tell me I was going down with you, after all, so I'll try not to die just yet.

Yours, 

Loghain

* * *

3 Harvestmere, 9:33

L,

I did say that didn't I? Well I can be a hotheaded fool sometimes, but I do want to see you again one day. 

Found another map for you, though it's much more recent. This one's of Nevarra. I wonder what it's really like there. The stories are so strange.

See if you can find all the skulls on the map, they're hidden everywhere. I counted fifteen.

Be well, my friend,

S.

* * *

17 Justinian, 9:34

Solona,

If this reaches you by your birthday, I will be surprised, as your brother says it's on the 20th. But I do hope you like it. I thought the pendant would suit you.

There seems to be an enchantment on it, but I am uncertain of its nature other than Daylen says it is not cursed. You’ve always enjoyed such puzzles he says, so enjoy delving it. Even if you do not care for it, well, I think we are even for that king’s ransom worth of maps you’ve given me.

The gem is part of a reward—Theron and I and three other Wardens helped the Legion of the Dead clear a lost thaig. Darmallion they called the place.

A year of health to you, though I know trouble will find you.

Yours,

Loghain

* * *

24 Justinian, 9:34

Loghain,

Thank you, I don't know what to say. It's beautiful.

Daylen was right, it's enchanted. Seems to give the wearer resistance to poisons. 

You don't owe me a thing for the maps though, you old fool.

But thank you again. I'll wear it always.

Solona

* * *

12 Solace, 9:34

S,

I'm glad you like it. One of my fellows thought I was sending it home to my wife. I told him I should be so lucky. 

L.

* * *

18 Solace, 9:34

L,

I do not object to your affection, but to marry would be pointless even if it were possible.

If I tell you I am yours, would that be enough? 

S.

* * *

25 Solace, 9:34

S,

You will always be enough for me. I've seldom met someone whose company I so longed for.

I am yours as well, if you'd have me. 

L.

* * *

14 Kingsway, 9:34

Loghain,

Little has changed since I last wrote, but I know you like to hear me ramble.

The last of the grapes have been pressed, at that vintners I helped rescue a few months ago. He's written to say he set aside two bottles for each of the Wardens who were there, so twelve in total. I hope he can afford it. Maybe he's hoping we'll buy more later.

If you want one of them let me know. I love sharing more than I like wine.

On that line of thought, I can ask for you to be transferred back, if you wish. Tempers have cooled, the keep is much restored, and I'd rather speak to you face to face. 

Another thing that might interest you—while I was at the market in Amaranthine the other day, I happened to visit the bookseller there. He had quite a lot of new stock, but also a large folio of parchments and maps and things. I've gone through his wares before, but there's never been so much. He must have bought out the library of a scholar who died or needed to pay some debts. Anyway, I found a trade map in the clutter, which is quite beautiful and has markers for certain places of note I've never seen on any other.

Perhaps I paid too much for it, but I think your hobby is rubbing off on me—I've become much better at telling which ones are rare and useful. This one I'm not going to give to you, I've decided. At least, not yet. If I'm to search for a cure, I need to find things like this, guides to lost places and lost knowledge. 

After three years of research, I am fairly certain I know where I want to start when I go. It's just a matter of preparations, and finding the right moment.

I suspect the moment will never be right. 

Be well, 

Solona

* * *

27 Kingsway, 9:34

Solona,

Do not trouble yourself asking for my return. We both know it will only give them further opportunity to humiliate me, which I will readily admit I am deserving of. I'd prefer not to provoke them, and you do not deserve to be embarrassed on my behalf. 

I am intrigued by the offer of your wine, however, my dear, and I am certain it would have its best flavor in your company.

Save it in case we have the opportunity to reunite.

We've no grapes to mash here, sadly, but instead a crop of new recruits. As such, I have been set to putting the ones who survived the Joining through drills and teaching them all the delightful things about how the darkspawn operate. Not all of them are dullards, so perhaps we'll have a handful who survive their first outing with the Legion of the Dead. 

Now that the leaves are falling I expect it would be better to plan for travel in spring, even if you had all of your affairs sorted in order to go.

I would like to have a glance at your new purchase, it must be very interesting indeed to have caught your attention so strongly. You usually only get so excited over magical things. 

Let me know what you decide to do. If you need my help I am glad to give it.

Yours,

Loghain

* * *

3 Bloomingtide, 9:35

L,

I had a lewd dream about you on Summerday.

I suppose a man your age could only get up to such things in dreams.

S.

* * *

8 Bloomingtide, 9:35

S,

If you’d like to find out, you know where to find me, my dear.

I've a blade you should have no trouble sharpening.

L.

* * *

15 Bloomingtide, 9:35

L,

Should I ever see you again, and you are yet willing, I do indeed intend to test your blade. 

I'd ride all night to claim it.

(I think the raven keeper is on to us. I saw her blush when I got your last message.)

S.

* * *

23 Bloomingtide, 9:35

S,

Alas, I will be afield until at least Solace, so you'll not have me. We’re to assist the dwarves north of Andoral’s Reach.

Perhaps we can continue this line of rousing discussion when I return.

(For the cause of mortifying our raven keepers, of course.)

L.

* * *

2 Wintermarch, 9:36

Loghain,

New year, much the same as the old year. Hope you’ve managed to keep your other foot out of the grave.

Just teasing. You’re in my thoughts as always, my love, and I hope your First Day was peaceful.

I finally tracked Anders down. He’s been in Kirkwall all this time, and there were Wardens that knew it. Nathaniel knew it, and he didn’t say a damned thing to me. If he weren’t out investigating some mischief for the First Warden, I’d strangle him.

I’ve been advised to leave Anders be and let the Marcher Wardens handle him if he causes further trouble. Which means they’re going to ignore the matter.

Very well, he’s their problem.

It’s over, I’m done. I’ve decided it’s time to go looking for something that will end this corruption.

Vigil’s Keep runs like clockwork now, with, or without me. Jack and I are going to follow this trail of breadcrumbs I’ve been assembling over the past five years. Perhaps to start, I’ll visit Weisshaupt and ask the First Warden some unpleasant questions. I suspect he knows more about what happened the day the Archdemon was slain than we realize.

I’d invite you, but last I heard Alisse was not doing well. They’ll need you there to help keep order. Perhaps a promotion? No, I suppose we both know it will be Clarel.

When I’ve settled on my destination, I might come get you anyway. Could use an experienced man at my side.

Be well in the New Year,

Solona

* * *

14 Wintermarch 9:36

Solona,

You jest, but I do think I’m feeling the cold more bitterly than usual. Winter has seemed like a year of its own already. 

You were right about Clarel, she’s taking Alisse’s place. She still resents me for not letting her run roughshod across Ferelden. I will never, ever regret barring her Orlesian Wardens with four legions of Chevaliers at their back, from entering the country. Never.

Things are chilly here in more ways than one.

All you have to do is say the word and I will come to you.

Loghain

* * *

21 Wintermarch 9:36

L,

Meet me in Jader in a week, at the Warden outpost there. Warden-Constable Findlay can convey my excuses for borrowing you back to Clarel. I hope to depart for Cumberland by the first of Guardian.

And perhaps we'll find time to warm you up.

S.

* * *

5 Wintermarch 9:37

Solona,

You likely won’t get this for some time, but since you wanted me to send it anyway, yes, I’m safe and sound, and so is your bloody dog.

Rude beast, all Jack does is whine for you.

I made it back to Montsimmard with little incident. Clarel agreed to allow me to resume my original patrol, and I expect to spend the foreseeable future releasing my considerable frustration on hacking through darkspawn.

Magic never made much sense to me. And you, you’re always swimming in it. I dearly hope the path you’ve taken doesn’t kill you, woman. I believe you when you say you need time to study the mirror paths on your own, but I deserved the chance to at least try to follow.

This feels like I’m losing you. Watching you go, being helpless, it’s maddening. I trust you, I know you are more than capable, but I want to be there.

I still can’t believe you pulled rank on me. I can’t believe you locked me out.

Jack refused to stay with Daylen, so he’ll be with me until you come for him.

Send word as soon as you are able. I am not the only one waiting.

Yours,

Loghain

* * *

10 Drakonis, 9:37

L,

I am safe. The journey I’ve been on has not been an easy one without you, but I’ve learned a great deal. I’m going to be gone again for a while, I think.

Promise I’ll check in when I can.

I’m sorry.

S.

* * *

18 Bloomingtide 9:37

Loghain,

I’m writing on behalf of another, to see if you can assist them.

My cousin, Marian Hawke of Kirkwall, has written to me asking for help investigating some sort of strange lyrium. It was first found in the Deep Roads while she was on an expedition some years ago. Marian is curious as to whether it has some relation to some trouble the Grey Wardens involved her in. She hasn’t been able to get far due to the unrest in the city. Have I mentioned she’s the Champion there? It would seem the Amell family is a magnet for trouble.

Though I wish I could aid her, my own search has brought me to a fruitful discovery—part of an ancient library with texts pre-dating the Blights. I’ve been doing my best not to reveal its location because I know the Chantry would burn it all, but with having to do my own translations it’s taking a long time. There’s a lifetime’s worth of work here, and the Wisdom spirit I’ve asked to aid me keeps going on unrelated tangents. Well, I’m sure they’re related but Maker only knows how.

I suspect I will be fluent in elvish after this. Morrigan would be so jealous, I wish I knew where she was.

Anyway, I’m directing Marian to you as you’re one of the handful of Wardens I trust. If you’re indisposed, send her to Stroud, he’s a good fellow.

Please pass on anything you find related to our work to the usual place. I’ll hopefully be done here before the end of Harvestmere, and I can make things up to you and Jack for being away for so long.

I miss you.

As always, be well,

Solona

P.S. The map you sent was absolutely the right one. I’m surprised you parted with it, but it’s been of immense help.

* * *

4 Solace, 9:40

Solona,

Do not under any circumstances return to the south.

Something has triggered the Calling upon us all. It’s widespread, every Warden for leagues is hearing the song. I do not know yet if whatever strange force this is extends beyond Orlais and Ferelden, but I intend to find out.

Clarel has been taking advice from a weaselly mage from Tevinter and is desperately recalling every Warden in Orlais from the field. I’m afraid she’s going to do something mad. We had a rather loud disagreement yesterday and she called for my arrest. I suppose I’m to be branded a traitor again.

I will send word when I can, but know that I’ve fled Montsimmard for the foreseeable future.

Your brother has given me shelter at his safe-house outside the city. He’s sitting out the mage rebellion with a small group of people from his Circle, due to some differences in opinion with the Grand Enchanter. You said he was naive. I’m not so sure about that.

Fortunate for me that I had reason to know where he was, as he gave me his location to pass on to you.

There’s more, but we need to speak of it in person.

Stay put. I’ll be on the move and will come to you if I can. Messages can go through A’s people until further notice.

Loghain

* * *

16 Solace, 9:40

L,

Still in Nevarra finishing my business with my Mortalitasi friend. She doesn't like what I've done, but I think it's the only way I'm going to progress my research. Sometimes you have to take risks. 

I cannot hear the Calling here, it must be some sort of spell. I believe you, but the magnitude you’re describing seems impossible. Contact me as soon as you can.

Be well, my love,

S.

* * *

10 Andrastine, 9:40

Solona,

Whatever it is you're doing, I hope you can put it on hold. I need you to come to where I am. 

Hopefully this is not too cryptic, but meet me in two weeks time, at the location we speculated on exploring together.

If you’ll recall it’s found on that colorful trade road survey with the dragons you made a copy of for me a few summers ago, and should be hanging by the desk. I will move on east from there at the end of the month, and try to track down your cousin.

Our investigation unearthed mysteries both strange and ancient, which I have not yet been at liberty to speak of. I have suspicions that they are connected to what is happening in Orlais.

Every time I think the world is starting to make sense, something new crops up.

Take all care, my dear. I fear for us all.

Yours,

Loghain


	4. Reunion

Their meeting place was so remote and well into the deepest, greenest forests hedging the Planascene, Loghain was far more concerned at being found and mauled by a wyvern or a great bear than those who pursued him. He’d gone north and east and now was well past Cumberland, the Vimmark mountains taking up most of the horizon to the east when there was a break in the tree cover.

Nevarra was a strange land with morbid and intricate customs, which focused heavily on death and the dead. Even if he did not loathe this land as he did Orlais, he did not wish to stay any longer than necessary. Solona for some reason found the place delightful. She’d kept a house in Hunter Fell for going on five years now, for, in her words, the magical traditions here were unique and fascinating. He didn’t have the understanding of it to agree or disagree, but if such things made her happy, so be it.

From here, the Calling itched at the edge of his consciousness, but it wasn’t as strong, seeping into his mind as it had in the south. It had to be some magic, some manipulation. He couldn’t even begin to guess how it worked, but it likely had to do with that monster that had been locked in a Grey Warden prison for centuries. If Corypheus could return just as an Archdemon rebirthed itself, they were all in danger beyond just the Calling.

Upon reaching the site where he’d indicated for Solona to meet him, he met some small resistance.

Roaming the ancient courtyard were a few small ash wraiths, and a shambling, possessed skeleton wearing shreds of ancient clothing. These were quick to dispatch, but more could arise at any time in such a haunted place. Once he had a fire going, he tossed in the bones into it and cleared the perimeter of debris. It might be the height of summer, but if he had to fight something worse it was better to have space to move.

This place was drenched in old magic, and he didn’t intend to go any further inside than what cover the arched entrance gave. Old Tevinter ruins like this one were often full of revenants and arcane horrors. Even if the salvage was good, he was not equipped for such a venture. Best to leave the doors undisturbed.

All he had with him were the things he’d been wearing or been able to grab from his quarters—most importantly, his map case, the signet ring from Anora, the rune-carved sword Solona had sent him a few years ago, and a shield that had seen better days. His horse had died from a snakebite outside Val Chevin, and he’d been on foot since.

Though he’d had few friends among the Wardens in Orlais, this was the first time in quite a while he’d been completely alone. He hoped Solona was in better straits. If she was able to come at all.

Rather than dwell on that possibility, he set up his meagre camp and set out to hunt and forage. The ruin was close enough to a stream that after he caught dinner, he could take a moment to bathe and scrape the stubble from his face.

Again, he had to clear the area of monsters first. His presence attracted two spiders half the size of a man each, both completely inedible, and an aggressive amphibious lizard with more teeth than body, which had enough meat on it to feed a small army. That there were not more beasts lurking made him suspect something bigger and more irritable was in the area. He didn’t intend to go looking for it, but he used chunks of the lizard’s flesh to bait some simple traps well away from camp. There were no darkspawn near which he could sense.

When night fell, fed, and his clothes dry enough from washing, he banked the fire, and settled down cross-legged against the alcove wall, his sword close at hand. He slept lightly even though he was well exhausted and feeling every hour of his age. Both the dead and the living left him be for once.

Two hot, dry days passed, uneventfully, the thick foliage around the temple making for ample shade. He spent the time hunting to build up what stores he could carry for when he moved on. Many of the plants here were foreign to him, so he didn’t risk plucking anything he didn’t immediately recognize. In the evening by the fire he carved small items, fishhooks and toggles, things that could be useful later.

On the third morning he was fishing from up on a rocky ledge, when he heard the distant bark of a large dog. The faint sense of a blighted being approaching told him all he needed, his heart leapt. Loghain gathered up his meager catch and ran back to camp.

Soon, the barking resolved into a huge mabari with a swirling blue kaddis on his ruddy coat. Solona followed close behind, riding a spiky, red reptilian beast of a sort usually not seen outside of Tevinter. Dracolisks, they were called, but he didn’t have time to ogle the creature. He braced himself as the dog rushed him, nearly knocking him over. Jack was smart, even for a mabari, and if he’d wanted to send him reeling he would have gone lower. As it was he had the beast’s maw in his face licking him unreservedly.

Loghain ruffled his coat and pushed him back. “Get down. You’ve found me, you great oaf. Look to your lady if you want some reward.”

Jack barked a laugh in his face, leapt away and circled back to Solona who’d dismounted.

She met him with an embrace and Loghain caught her up and kissed her soundly, overwhelmed with relief.

“I was worried when he lost your scent a few miles back. He got really excited when he found it again,” she said, catching her breath. The hood of her travelling cloak fell back as he set her on her feet.

Ten years had marked her, thin scars on chin and cheek, some new ones crossing the old, and small lines at her eyes. Her bright grin was the same as ever. No sign of clouding in her eyes, her hair still black and thick, her skin carrying a healthy tone. The taint in her blood hadn’t progressed visibly. They’d been apart for a little over a year, and it felt like an eternity. He ran his hands down her shoulders and then grasped her hands, and his smile faded. The reason for their meeting itched at the back of his mind again.

“You can hear it, can’t you?”

“Faintly. You said it was worse in Orlais.” Her eyes went distant like she was listening intently for a moment, and then she shook her head to break out of the trance.

“Much worse. Clarel intends to seek out the source and destroy it. She wants to hunt down the last two archdemons.”

“Hunt them, but how? There’s a million darkspawn down there even if we could dig that deep.”

“There was some discussion of binding demons to fight for us. Blood magic. Human sacrifice. I didn’t stay long enough to learn much more.”

“She’s mad.”

He shook his head. “No, she’s desperate, Solona. Such fear...it can make you do things that you would normally consider obscene. I should know. We never got along, but she’s not an evil person. This isn’t like her at all. Still, we have to stop her.” He didn't particularly like defending Clarel, but she’d always taken her duty to the Grey Wardens seriously. Every Warden in Orlais thought they were dying, something had to be done, but the solution she’d chosen was not worth the cost.

“Perhaps I should go pay her a visit. They’re not looking for me.” She gave him a mischievous smile. To his knowledge, Solona respected Clarel, but the two Warden-Commanders had very different approaches to leadership. Clarel would never abandon her post to go chase the slim chance of a cure for what afflicted them. No, instead she’d bring all her forces to bear and drag them down into ruin with her.

Loghain made a noise in his throat just short of a laugh. “Oh, they are. Not the Grey Wardens, though. The Divine has agents asking around for you, one of the Seekers, I think.” Something about finding someone to help lead a peacekeeping force. A hero they could use as a figurehead most likely.

She stood up straighter at that. “What? I don’t understand. Leliana usually keeps me informed.”

“Perhaps she knows better than to trouble you. The mages and Templars are rampaging in bands across the countryside, the Lions are still at each other’s throats in Orlais. Anora says there’s word of negotiations to be held soon to hash out their differences. What they’d need you for I’m not entirely certain.” He was not at all keen to let them have her, either.

“Hmm. Have you heard from my cousin? She seems to have gone to ground, too. So much chaos is making it hard to communicate.”

“Not since the end of Justinian. She said she was with some Carta smugglers in north Ferelden. She’s been in and out of hiding since that terrible business with your wayward mage.” Debris from the explosion of the Chantry there had rained down across a large swath of the city, killing people in the streets. Three years later the war it had helped spark showed no sign of abating.

When he’d spoken to Hawke, she seemed to think it had been inevitable, but that there were outside forces exacerbating the troubles there, too. The Templars had gained access to the red lyrium she’d helped discover and it had changed them, she said. They’d gotten more of it, for the evil stuff was growing like meadow grass in Kirkwall’s Circle tower, the Gallows.

“I warned them, it’s nothing to do with me.” Her scowl at just a mention of the matter made him regret bringing it up.

“Fair enough. Do you need to rest? My plan was to—” He was silenced by her putting a finger to his lips.

“No plans, Loghain. Not yet. And yes, I do need to rest. We’ve barely said hello.” She gave him a suggestive smile and drew him closer, pressing her lips near his ear.

“A shame your magic can’t summon a bed.” He wasn’t really complaining, kissing her was the best thing that had happened to him in ages. In fact, Loghain did it again for good measure.

“Poor accommodations never stopped us before.” They’d had a decent bed during the year they’d spent living in Hunter Fell together, while she tried to wheedle access to a Mortalitasi’s library. Then she’d found that damned mirror and disappeared for two months. He’d come very close to never speaking to her again—and maybe he wouldn’t have, if not for Jack’s pining.

“I know this might come as a surprise to you, given my past enthusiasm, but I believe I am still recovering from last time.” His back was not as forgiving as it had been in his youth, and perhaps taking their pleasure against a storeroom wall before she left had not been wise. He’d been feeling stronger and more focused since he’d gained some distance from Orlais and the Calling, thankfully.

She chuckled, and laid her bedroll out in the arched alcove, next to the padded horse blanket he’d been sleeping on. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

“I’d rather you be the death of me,” he said. Solona snorted, then tugged on his collar.

“You should be so lucky. I plan to keep you as long as I can.” Then she cast the same wards she usually did before they slept, which kept away intruders man or beast. 

No reason for further hesitation, they stripped down until the parts of their skin which seldom saw the sun were bare and given glow by the daylight. Solona still wore a bracelet with a lock of his hair woven into it and the emerald pendant he’d sent her years ago. A pretty thing against a lovelier woman. He wore nothing but his scars and the audacity of a fool who’d taken a lover half his age. She didn’t seem to mind.

Solona let him hold her for a while, before they laid together. Every journey could be their last journey, after all. If the Calling was real, it would for certain. Best to savor such rare respite.


	5. Going Home

They took the next day to plot their course. They’d go northeast, trade for supplies in Wildervale, then head south to pass through the Vimmarks to Kirkwall. A little over two weeks travel if the weather held out. There, they’d look for Solona’s cousin Carver, a Templar who might know Marian’s current location. If he didn’t know, he might know someone who would.

It took a while to winnow down a list of people they could potentially call upon for aid, which out of them absolutely needed to know what was going on, and who needed protecting. Solona had family scattered across Thedas because of the war, and they both knew Wardens who might be isolated and confused by the current situation.

What Weisshaupt thought of the matter was a question they both wanted an answer for. It seemed unlikely Clarel had official sanction from the First Warden.

Anora could send him no aid directly, but they had access to at least some of her intelligence. He did not want to trouble her at all, unless completely unavoidable, however. She currently had rogue mages and Templars making chaos all of the way down to the Hinterlands. Most of her energy was going into keeping the banns happy, and trying to avoid a refugee crisis as happened during the Blight.

The list of Wardens who might join them included only a handful of people, but none who were near at hand. He wrote off the Orlesian Wardens as compromised, though Solona shook her head at him. If he’d run, there might be others.

The Ferelden Wardens didn’t have the numbers Orlais did. If they were hearing it too, it was possible they’d fall in line with Clarel, or evacuate to Weisshaupt entirely for help. There was no way to know if anyone friendly was still there without going to Amaranthine directly.

When they reached Wildervale—which was more of a glorified trading post than a city—they sold the dracolisk for two sturdy horses, replenished their supplies, and Loghain finally got his hands on a decent bow and a quiver of charmed Rivaini arrows. The one he’d scrounged was better suited for kindling. Solona sent out two messages by courier—one to Val Royeaux for Leliana, the other to the man who took care of her accounts in Nevarra. He was tempted to send word to Anora that he was alive, but deemed it too risky.

They began their journey south under an overcast sky, and by nightfall it was full-on raining. At least it wasn’t cold. Midsummer was not a bad time to seek passage through the Vimmarks, though there was a much higher chance of encountering cadres of bandits and the occasional bear to contend with. They passed a few caravans, heavily guarded and slow, and solitary travelers, too.

Rumor had it that the Templars who’d remained in Kirkwall were starting to act strangely, and the Viscount’s throne had yet to be claimed.

It was still raining when they exited the pass that led into the city proper, as if the storm was taking a slow track just to follow them. The northern gates were ornamented as oppressively as the sea gates, immense statues of tormented prisoners hung upon black stone walls as tall as the cliffs to strike fear into newcomers.

“Welcome home,” Loghain muttered dryly, after they stated their business to the sour-faced grunt at the guard post. Solona stifled a laugh.

“I haven’t been here since I was seven. Nothing’s familiar at all.”

“Do you remember anything of it?” He had a mental map of the parts of the city he’d been to, though he’d never had cause to stay long.

“Hmm, not much that’s pleasant. The manor was huge and full of lovely things, so many rooms. Then my brother was taken and my mother, she just left one day and didn’t come back. I remember people with wagons loading furniture to be sold, and my father told the four of us to dress warm and bring what we could carry. We took passage to Ostwick where his brother lived, and my older brother was in the Circle there. It was maybe a year after that we were split to the winds.”

“You seem to keep up a healthy correspondence with them, for all that. Daylen always seemed to know what you were up to.” Occasionally, he’d learned things about her activities in Ferelden from her brother that she didn’t share with him, mostly because they had to do with magic, and vice-versa.

“Well I write to him the most, I suppose—even if he’s supporting having the Circles restored as they were. But yes, I’m glad we still can have something of a relationship despite it all. I’m not sure what’s going to happen now that the Circles are dissolved. It’s all up to what the Divine does next.”

“Peace talks, I hope. Somehow I don’t think an Exalted March will help matters.”

“No, I don’t think so either, but there needs to be some sort of reckoning or resolution. I hope Carver’s still here. The Templars are in complete chaos.”

“Have you ever met your cousins?” He’d lost his entire family during the occupation. Anora was all he had left, as he couldn’t put claim to a child who would never know him.

Solona shook her head. “No. My father blamed everything bad that happened on Marian’s mother so he didn’t want us to associate with them. Never mind my uncle was a smuggler and a slaver and my grandfather bankrupted us trying to bail him out. It was a mess, but not one I had to pay for, ultimately. Mages don’t have to worry about having a dowry or finding a good spouse, or caring for their families. Wardens doubly so.”

“True. More’s the pity, you’d make an excellent wife.” Something he’d brought up before, which she quickly quashed. They’d have no children to legitimize, no property to inherit, so what was the point, she’d said. The point was acknowledgment of a commitment, even if there wasn’t a feast or a babe on the way. With the life they had now, he knew it was ridiculous, but it was something mundane and ordinary to cling to in such madness.

“Loghain.” There was a warning in her voice.

“I think you and Celia would have gotten along—for the five seconds between when you took a seat and then you let Jack up on the furniture. She had a temper.” He’d never been a particularly good husband, being away so much. When their daughter was crowned Queen next to Maric's son, there was nothing to keep him from returning home with her, and he did stay at her side till she passed. Without Celia there, Gwaren was an empty shell; he'd gone back to Denerim at first opportunity. Loghain had hoped Anora would have had a child for him to spoil by then, but it was not to be.

Solona looked puzzled for a moment. “Oh, your wife! I knew you must have had one, because of Anora, but hadn’t given it much thought. What happened to her?”

“Wasting disease. Much like what took Queen Rowan. It was Blight sickness, or cancer related to it, they said. The healers made certain she didn’t suffer, but watching the light go out of her was awful. Before that she was a force of nature.”

“I didn’t know. Sorry to hear that.”

Loghain shook his head. It was just as well buried in the past like so many other terrible things. “A quick death by the sword does seem preferable—but enough talk of old misery. There’s gloom enough in this city. Maybe that’s what’s bringing it out in us.” Even in daytime, this malodorous city had a pall, and it wasn’t just the clouds.

“To be honest, you’re not wrong. Kirkwall has a dark aura to it, and it’s not pleasant to walk around in. The Veil is like tissue, it's so thin. How much blood magic do they do here?”

“I’d prefer not to find out. Marian mentioned that she reclaimed the estate after dealing with her uncle’s debt, I believe, so perhaps we should start in Hightown.”

They found an inn in Lowtown that didn’t look too seedy, and stabled the horses. Then they took to walking. Kirkwall’s streets in this area were narrow, filthy, and always busy. Busiest now, for it was midday and the food sellers were trying to divest of the rest of the day’s stock. Most people seemed keen to give a wide berth to two heavily armed Wardens and their massive war dog, fortunately.

It had been years since the chantry explosion, but there were still large chunks of stone scattered through the otherwise tidy wide marble boulevards of the upper city. Craters decorated the pavement where some of them had fallen then rolled, and left large cracks in the street. The buildings certainly had not come out unscathed either. It was easy to tell who had been hit, by the new masonry against the old, or that there was still scaffolding around an edifice even after three years.

With a brief walk around the plaza Solona identified the Amell crest with little trouble. Together they passed between the massive, vine-wrapped pillars bracketing the entrance of the estate. The stonework was done in the dwarven style conforming to the rest of Hightown. If the mansion had any beauty to it, it was a stark one.

A blonde elven woman answered the pull off the bell, and noticed their uniforms with alarm. “May I help you? My Lady Hawke is away.”

Solona stepped forward. “I was hoping to speak to my cousin Carver Hawke. I’m Solona Amell.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, my lady. Master Carver will be back soon. Would you like to wait, or can I relay a message?”

“We can wait. How long do you think he’ll be?”

“Shouldn’t be long, my lady. He’ll want dinner. Guard Captain Vallen has him doing patrols. There’s nothing else for him to do with the mages all gone from the Circle. I suppose you can wait in the atrium. I’ll put on some tea.”

“That would be lovely.” Solona took a spot on the pillowed settee by the massive fireplace, and Loghain the wooden armchair to the side of her. The place was hung with aged fading red banners and the family crest, though the furnishings looked to be of more recent make. Still, it had an air of disuse. Jack was sniffing the whole room down, like there was another dog in the house. Maybe there had been, once.

Carver appeared within the hour, looking pale and tired. He was a tall man, taller than Loghain, with a shock of black hair and muscled like a bull. He wore the standard skirted armor of a Templar, and a massive broadsword strapped to his back. The elven servant ran in to meet him, as he placed the helm he’d had under his arm on the sideboard.

“Orana? Oh, I see we have—” Carver turned and then stared at Solona, the blood draining out of his face. “Beth? No…”

They stood up, and Solona inclined her head to her cousin. “Warden-Commander Solona Amell. I’m one of Revka’s brood.”

This seemed to jog the man’s memory, though he was no less surprised. “Oh, you’re her, the Hero! I never would have thought, but you look so much like my sister. We lost her to the Blight when we were running from Lothering.”

“I’d heard. I’m sorry I never got to meet her. She would have fit in with my lot,” Solona said.

“True enough. Your side went all mage. I was the only one who it skipped in my family. So what brings you here? With him?” Loghain thought he’d been overlooked, but hearing the disapproval in Carver’s voice he was mistaken.

“I am only here to accompany the Warden-Commander,” Loghain said. “Your sister Marian and I were looking into the proliferation of red lyrium in the area, and other matters concerning the Wardens. There seems to be some connection to it and the Blight.”

Carver nodded. “Red lyrium. It’s bad stuff I’ll tell you that. Haven’t been able to get regular lyrium for months, so the other Templars still here have been substituting it. I saw what happened to Meredith. Not going down that road, even if I’ve been ill over the withdrawals. Some of our men are just leaving, I don’t know where.”

“Hopefully away from all the red lyrium,” Solona said. “We need to find Marian, she was helping us looking into a matter involving a strange kind of darkspawn, too. It’s related to that Grey Warden prison she was tricked into breaking open. Alarming things have been happening since. Not just with the Templars but with the Wardens, too.”

“That does sound like what I’ve been hearing elsewhere. She told me a little. Some ancient darkspawn magister she had to kill. The truth is though, I don’t know where she’s gone. She writes but it’s always, ‘Get out of Kirkwall, there’s trouble coming.’ Like there isn’t always trouble here.”

“I can’t say I disagree with her advice,” Solona said. “Do you know who might know where she is? I wouldn’t press but things are getting much worse. It’s like something evil woke up.”

“Worse than an archdemon?” Carver looked incredulous.

Loghain shook his head. “We don’t know, but there’s been a rapid escalation in ancient things popping up out of seemingly nowhere. First dragons, then an archdemon, then an ancient darkspawn magister. The world is changing in ways we’re in no way prepared for.”

“At least the archdemon and that darkspawn magister are both dead,” Carver said.

Loghain glanced at Solona and her eyes met his. Hawke had said some troubling things, but unless they got more help in searching for clues there was no way to be certain until after another atrocity took place. Every Grey Warden knew that monsters didn’t always stay dead like they should, and if Hawke was right, they were completely vulnerable to this particular monster.

“Anyway, if you want to find my sister—”

“Carver, let’s not lead them on a wild chase.” An imposing black-haired woman wearing armor under her travel-stained cloak, appeared, leaning on the balustrade above them. Marian Hawke descended the stairs to join them. She had a stave on her back, and there was a shimmer around her like she’d just dispelled some sort of magic.

“Oh. You’re back.” Carver’s mouth twisted in a frown, and he sounded slightly disappointed as she stood at his side, a mabari following close at her feet. Loghain watched from the corner of his eye as Solona’s mabari slunk over to circle Marian’s with much whuffing and the two got acquainted. Thankfully they seemed cordial.

“Sorry to steal your fun, but I was tipped off that a pair of Wardens were headed this way,” Hawke said, with a smile. She held out her hand to Solona. “Marian Hawke. Pleased to meet you, Warden-Commander.”

Solona shook her hand firmly, and gave her a cold grin. “Solona Amell, and I believe you’ve met Loghain. Do you mind disclosing your source?”

“I do mind—cousin. Good to see you’re still in one piece,” Marian said, nodding towards him. “I was concerned after I heard what was happening in Orlais.”

Loghain nodded. “It’s worse than you can imagine. We can still hear it, even here. The Calling seems to fade off the further north we go, however. Something’s got to be triggering it. Or someone.”

“That was my thought, too. I don’t suppose you two would mind discussing this while we’re walking?”

“Where to?” Solona had crossed her arms, an eyebrow raised. She was clearly still irked that Marian had caught them by surprise. Loghain was only relieved. No more wondering if one of the few people who had some idea what they were dealing with was alive or dead.

“The docks. We’re going to Ferelden.”

“Wait what? But you just came back,” Carver complained.

“And you still haven’t gone to visit our friend in Starkhaven like I asked you to.” Marian pushed at her brother’s chestplate with her finger.

“I’m still not having this argument.”

“Suit yourself, brother. Varric will keep you informed, just be careful. There’s a faction of the Templars who are tearing up the countryside and when they get back they’re going to come looking for you to join them. You’re all I’ve got left, don't be a proud fool.”

“Seems like I should be saying that to you, but I know you can’t stay out of a fight. Tch.” Carver shook his head. “It was good to meet you, cousin,” he said, with an irritated wave of his hand and stalked away.

Marian gave them a tight smile. “Shall we?”


	6. Hidden Days

The square-sailed, two-masted ship which took them across the Waking Sea belonged to an attractive Rivaini woman named Isabela. She was decked out in lavish golden jewelry, a leather long coat, tall boots and a shirt with ruffles at the throat and wrists. Loghain had met her in passing on another voyage, and Solona knew her from playing cards in Denerim during the Blight. They both agreed that playing Wicked Grace with her was an expensive risk.

They saw very little of Isabela and Marian after the sun went down. Though hearing them was another matter entirely.

Solona was not adjusting well at all to being on the water, on the other hand, and had taken to laying on her back on the foredeck. He sat next to her, stroking her hair, while her mabari made worried noises at her side and periodically licked her cheek.

“She’ll be fine, Jack.” Loghain reached over and scratched him behind the ears, but the mabari didn’t seem convinced.

Solona rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not fine, old man. Stop lying to my dog.”

“You see, she can complain. She’s well enough to take on an army.”

“I shudder to think what would have happened to Ferelden if I’d had to fight with a ship swaying under me.”

Unable to appreciate the view of sky and stars or the intricacies of nautical life in her discomfort, she fell asleep. He followed suit not long after, his back against a massive coil of rope that didn’t seem to be in use at that particular moment. At sunrise the jagged, rocky cliffs of the Storm Coast were in full view, and they were ferried to the shore.

Almost leaping out of the rowboat when they landed, Solona lost her balance and ended up on all fours on the gravelly beach. Of the two of them Loghain had thought he was the most eager to be back on Ferelden soil, but apparently not.

Marian gave her a hand up, and Jack bolstered her from the side. Loghain helped the sailor who’d accompanied them unload their gear and supplies, and then offered Solona her staff. She could use it for support while she found her land legs.

“We are not doing that again, anytime soon, I hope,” Solona said, watching the little rowboat slip across the water back to the waiting vessel.

“No, but I hope you don’t mind living rough,” Marian said. “We’re going to be on the move a lot. I’m trying to avoid being arrested by the Chantry, and the Templars seem to have it in for me as well. We’ll be meeting one of my contacts regarding the red lyrium a bit further up the coast, in two days. There are some dwarven ruins we can camp in if you don’t mind killing a few spiders.” She hefted her pack and her staff, and hooked some small bundles to a harness her mabari wore.

“Spiders, or _spiders_?” asked Solona.

Loghain laughed. “I think we’ve both gotten used to it.”

The hills of the Storm Coast were really more like mountains, and finding a path sometimes required going around wide swaths of sheer grey cliff faces when the beach dropped off completely into the sea. In some places the octagonal pillars that made up the stone could be used like stairs, but it wasn’t always the case. Huge statues of dwarven make were carved throughout the area, some standing at the pinnacle of a rock face, some hidden in the valleys between.

He kept an eye on Solona, who still looked wobbly, even after a few hours of walking. She was keeping up, but he had a feeling she was going to sleep like the dead later. Just as well, he was starting to hear that infernal song more strongly now, weaving into the corners of his thoughts. She had to be hearing it, too.

They reached the meeting spot early the second day and rain had set in. With nothing to do but wait, they found a nearby dwarven ruin, high on a cliff and cleared it of what lurked there for welcome shelter. There were signs of an older camp, leftovers from a fire, bits of old cloth and bones but nothing useful. They settled in, and Marian took out a deck of cards, much to Solona’s delight. That was, until she found out he and Marian were outmaneuvering her. Such distraction was more than welcome though.

The next morning he woke with Jack on one side of him and Solona splayed over his chest on the other. This, despite the fact she’d have lost thirty sovereigns to him if they’d been playing with something other than stones. She was generally a sore loser and would sulk, so she must have been cold.

He sat up gently, waking her, and when she moved he rolled his shoulders trying to work out the stiffness. Solona pressed a kiss to his cheek absently, and he chuckled. She’d forgotten they weren’t alone.

Marian was watching them with amusement from across the fire.

“So you two are a thing. Huh,” she said.

Solona scowled at her, groggy and blinking. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. I just didn’t see it coming. But didn’t you try to kill each other?”

“A number of my good friends have. It’s a bit unnerving really. Situations change,” Solona said and shrugged, dismissing her concern.

Loghain gave a snort. “No one is more surprised than I.”

“Sounds like a long story, which I fully intend to hear. Later. For now, shall we go find my dwarven friend?”

They threaded a line down the grey cliff on a narrow, grassy goat trail, and went to wait at the base of a statue so enormous that they'd been able to see it from well in the distance at sea. The sky was still spitting rain, but it wasn’t pouring.

Rustling from the treeline up the stony beach produced a grey-haired dwarf dressed in worn leather armor, daggers at his waist. He carried a metal box under one arm, and made a beeline towards them.

“Right on time,” he said in a gruff voice. “Good to see you, Hawke. I’ve got a new sample to show you. Used live wood this time. I guess these are your Warden friends?”

“They are, Torin, and I definitely think they should see this.”

The dwarf hefted the box and undid the latch. Loghain noticed he was wearing gloves that had runes worked into plates along the digits and palm, and the box itself appeared to be made of lead.

Inside was a chunk of glowing red stone. It had threaded what looked like veins into a segment of freshly-hewn pinewood by the scent and the bark still attached. He knew innately that there was blight in the stone, but it made no sense, as only living things could be blighted.

“I cut this two days ago, and drove a splinter the size of a needle into the center. Big as my thumb now. It grows, and fast. Doesn’t matter if it’s plants or critters. Pretty sure it’s the same for people, though I’m not going to test it on them. If it gets in you, it’ll eat you up inside, I guarantee. Those Templars you mentioned are playing with their lives. Normal lyrium grows slow enough they can use it for decades before their minds go. This stuff, I can’t see someone lasting a year with their senses intact.”

Hawke nodded. “That’s pretty consistent with what I’ve observed, too.”

“It’s blighted stone. How is that possible?” Solona said, echoing Loghain’s thoughts.

The dwarf scratched his bearded chin. “Well, I don’t want to break your mind, miss, but it’s probably because lyrium is alive. I mean, we’re still running tests, but it flows in veins, grows through the earth, sings a pretty song,” said Torin. He closed the box, latching it tightly.

Marian crossed her arms, and paced in agitation. “So would it follow that if regular lyrium gets blighted it could spread through an entire mine and consume it.”

“That’s possible yeah. That ancient thaig you and the Tethras brothers found seems to be the only place completely overrun, but I can see it getting out of hand, easy. Whatever was keeping it in check is gone.”

“And it’s had five years to spread.”

Torin laughed up at her and nodded, nothing in his expression that wasn’t ominous. “Yeah. As long as no one started handing it out like candy we should have been able to contain it. But, well, you know. People are people.”

“Varric’s not going to like this. I don’t like this. Solona—” Marian started to say, and then her mabari growled and barked in alarm and ran for the trees. Jack tore off after him, before Solona could stop him.

Loghain drew his weapons and rushed behind the dogs, while Solona cast a barrier on them all. Arrows slammed against it, followed by a ball of fire that washed over him, dispersing the rest of the magic. He followed the line in the foliage the dogs massive paws had made and glimpsed a flash of white robes and flanged helmets ahead.

Tevinter-style garb, it looked like. Too many to get a good count between the trees. With mages it was better to have obstructing terrain, but swinging a sword wouldn’t be as easy.

The first one he engaged was a massive man, who strangely wore a helm but no chest armor, and was hefting a hammer that was carved like a dragon’s head. Loghain had to dance behind a boulder to fend him off and drive some space between them, but the brute was quicker than he looked and he had reach. A glancing blow almost shattered one side of his shield.

Solona and Marian were casting behind him, and he watched Solona’s paralyzation spell slam down on the front row of their attackers. Marian’s attack sent two more of them flying backwards in an explosion of golden sparks. The dogs were harrying a mage, one on his leg the other at his throat. The dwarf appeared to his left and slashed the neck of one of the incapacitated mages, then moved onto the next.

It took some maneuvering but he finally got a count—five down, five more left and the brute who seemed to be getting more vicious the bloodier he got. Reaver then.

Loghain pulled back and drew him into Solona’s line of sight. She wouldn’t have enough mana for anything big for at least another minute.

“Solona, anything you’ve got would help!”

“On it!”

Light arced overhead, and slammed into the brute’s head, throwing him back, followed by another blast as Loghain rushed in and drove his sword between unprotected ribs. The brute staggered back again, and out of nowhere the dwarf swooped in and stabbed his thickly muscled shoulders. While his arms were up trying to fling the dwarf off, Loghain got him again through the side, and the brute seized up and fell.

Before he could fall back and pick a new target, Loghain was thrown back by a bolt of violet light. His muscles lost all strength for a moment and he nearly dropped his sword. Falling to one knee to recover and brace for anything incoming he scanned the field for his attacker. No luck, but Solona had frozen one of the archers, all he had to do was get up and knock him down. He advanced again, trying to shake off the weakness in his arms.

Hawke and her mabari were concentrating on one of the mages, and after he finished the archer he took a swing at her mage from the back. Another one down. He looked around again, and got caught in the chin with the blunt end of a stave. This time he fell, but he managed to roll, and the second blow didn’t land.

As he scrambled for his bearings, Jack leaped over him and knocked back his assailant. Loghain forced himself up and pushed through the pain. He made a slice at the mage while Jack circled back around. The mabari went for the neck with his jaws, and getting leverage for a strike, Loghain threw his entire weight behind his sword. Between them they nearly cut the mage in half. Blood sprayed and covered them both, as the body fell away in a limp heap.

He got his back against a tree, fighting for his feet, and heard Solona call his name, he searched for another threat half in a daze. The dwarf was cleaning his daggers though, and Marian sliced the neck of one of the fallen Tevinters with the blade of her staff.

“Maker, look at you. I turn my back for one moment,” Solona said, grabbing him by the chin to examine the swelling. Her other hand started glowing greenish and she touched it to his battered skin.

Loghain winced, but let her work. “Don’t fret, woman, it scarcely hurts.”

“That mage whacked you good, I saw it. You’re lucky it’s not dislocated,” she scowled. He grinned at her despite the pain, until she laughed and kissed him.

Marian approached them, the dwarf at her side. “I’m not sure if Torin was followed, or if the Tevinters were here and didn’t want to be seen. I can’t believe it’s a coincidence though. We didn’t find any letters or anything on them.”

“They don’t seem to have any livery, or banners either. Not from one of the houses or the Magistrate, it seems. Maybe they have a camp nearby,” Loghain said. Though with so much magic at hand they would have been able to cover their tracks easily.

If there was anything else, even with the dogs they didn’t find it.

With nothing more to keep him, Torin took his leave, carrying his troubling experiment with him. He’d send word to Marian if he had any new developments to share.

They took the time to wash the blood and gore off, and gathered the bodies into a pile for a pyre. Leaving them could cause trouble later, if a spirit decided to wear their bones.

When they returned to camp a question hung in the air, that no one dared speak. They all knew the answer.

What could they do now, with such dangerous information?

Nothing yet. They’d have to watch and wait and stay alive.


	7. What Lies Beyond Glory

When the other boot dropped, they’d been tracing the trails of Corypheus’ machinations for nearly five months.

Marian came and went with messages from their other contacts. Anora was convinced the Conclave the Divine had called for would solve everything, Nathaniel said there was no communication from Weisshaupt at all, and he would head that way, Varric and Isabela confirmed other sightings of Tevinters in places they didn’t belong.

He and Solona moved on from the caves of the Storm Coast, briefly to an old fisherman’s shack in Crestwood, which was also a Carta drop, then a stone cottage near West Hill where they wintered.

Bereft of power to do much else, they did patrols periodically through the wilderness. Mostly they cleared out darkspawn and tainted creatures. Bandits were much more of a problem though, for with the war, the far edges of Ferelden had become chaotic.

Also, the red lyrium had spread as they’d feared, appearing in spikes near old mines and places where the earth was raw. 

They did what little they could without drawing attention to their presence. Solona ranged further out towards populated areas than Loghain, because her face wasn’t as well-known. This was the part of Ferelden he was from, after all. He knew its hills and valleys as well as he knew his own name. And they knew him.

That he got to walk this land again, often with Solona and Jack at his side, knowing his people were free—gratifying wasn't the word for it, for there was joy in his heart, too, for once. If not for the weight of the Calling making every quiet moment nerve-wracking, he might have considered this one of the better stretches of his days.

Word of the Conclave disaster came after the turn of the year, winter into spring. Haven fell not long after, and Corypheus made himself known to all.

It was a cold, wet muggy day in Drakonis, when Marian brought the Inquisition.

Solona was out on patrol at the time, so she missed meeting the Inquisitor. She didn't miss much. Trevelyan was a man who, despite his magical mark and the squad of highly-trained killers at his back, had little presence, in Loghain's opinion. Their divine messenger, if he was one, seemed so ordinary set next to the great people he’d known—compared to his father, Rowan, Maric, compared to Solona.

More notably there was a man in his retinue impersonating a Warden.

First of all, he didn’t have the Blight. Secondly, Loghain knew Gordon Blackwall—the first thing the man had done when they’d met in Montsimmard, was to spit at his feet. Whatever this fellow’s game was, for now it might be useful to have someone who looked like a Warden but wasn’t hearing the Calling. When he told her of it later, Solona grumbled about him making a decision without her, but then agreed. 

Time flew by in a rush as they headed west with the Inquisition, who planted their black banners with the hairy eyeball on them at even intervals as they passed. Entirely too many of them in Ferelden. Eamon had to be having fits.

Skyhold held for him a rare welcome surprise, though. Morrigan was there and so was her child. His child. With her permission Loghain met with him briefly, and he was pleased Kieran seemed a healthy, well-adjusted boy. Loghain looked for something of himself in him, but saw only his mother. Knowing that he'd grown up so well would have to be enough.

Solona teased him over his elation, later, but she, too, was happy. Quietly, she took some time to catch up with her old friends. Morrigan and Leliana were oddly protective of her, he noticed, and he wasn’t complaining, but her presence received none of the fanfare it deserved because of their secrecy. Solona told him that she didn't want to be a distraction, or to get sucked up in the Inquisitor's politics. They were here for the sake of the Wardens and nothing more.

Within a week of their arrival, the Inquisition was preparing to cross Orlais, now that Gaspard was firmly on the throne. Loghain had nothing to say about the new ruler there, other than that one Orleasian noble was as bad as the next, a shame both of them weren't assassinated. With Orlais in shambles, it would take a while before the Empire could go back to pecking at Ferelden. More importantly, Clarel had started gathering her demon army at Adamant. They needed to get there with their forces, before the Warden-Commander finished her grisly work. She'd been under the guidance of that blood mage Erimond, who they now knew was part of the Venatori.

It took a brutal march to get them to the Abbysal Rift, then the siege of Adamant began. If not for the dragon, they might well have had an overwhelming victory.

Solona wasn't with the forward party, as she was trying to secure certain artifacts at Adamant for Leliana. She didn't see the bridge collapse, or have to watch him fall. And of course, once in the strange and shifting lands of the Fade, they had to fight all of the way back out. To escape required someone to keep the castle-sized demon blocking their path, occupied.

There were two volunteers. Only he stayed.

The Inquisitor likely would have never realized he had the Hero of Ferelden right under his nose at all, except that he made the mistake of returning from the Fade without Loghain.

Loghain should have known Solona wouldn’t have it.

She'd sworn long ago she wouldn't let him leave her alone in the dark with the Calling. That hadn't changed. Yet, there was no way he could justify allowing anyone to else die for his sake, certainly not a friend. He’d had his time. If he got to pick a death this was a good one. Marian deserved to go home to her pirate wife.

Solona had her secrets, though. Something subtle about her had changed, but he'd marked it up to the stress she'd been under.

When she came for him, he was laying on his back, fairly certain he was bleeding out. The demons had lost interest in him once he was insensate and motionless. No fear, no worries left for them to feed on, when a bright green light shone against the dark which was fast swallowing him up.

He didn’t see her so much as feel her approach. A hand pressed against his chest and warmth spread through him like water, like sunlight, holding back the cold and pain of death. Dread crept up on him and Loghain knew the demon was coming back, though, and he could do nothing to protect her.

“You’re too late, Glory,” chuckled Nightmare in its deep resonant voice.

“I think not. This one is mine,” she said, standing to face the demon. Her voice wasn’t exactly her voice but two voices in unison.

He could fully see her now, and he noticed a few things immediately. One, she was both covered in blood and glowing like the sun, two, she had manifested a golden spear twice her height in her other hand, three, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“How quaint.” The demon was unperturbed, and seemed to gather itself for an attack.

“As you like.” Solona stepped back, her eyes glowing with blue light, and hurled the bright spear at Nightmare with all of her strength and willpower.

Loghain could not really comprehend what happened after that.

It seemed to rain spiders, small fragmented spiders which were confused and almost forgetting their purpose. He was supposed to be frightened but it was too absurd. There was no time to think about it much, as he found himself scooped up in the arms of a woman who definitely should not have been strong enough to carry him.

A green gash in the air waited for them, though how the Inquisitor could be holding it open still he didn’t know. The man seemed to have pitiful control of his powers last time.

What appeared on the other side of the portal was unexpected, but he was delirious, and probably dying so perhaps it wasn’t actually real.

Before them was what was left of Erimond, his blood making a lake across the entire surface of the dais they were on. The Inquisitor was hanging in midair held aloft by invisible bonds, arm outstretched, while his mark radiated it’s strange power. Around the dais glowed a barrier, which the men and mages outside were throwing their best efforts against to break.

When Solona released the spell, her barrier exploded outwards, throwing all of the people closest to it backwards.

The Inquisitor fell to the ground with a grunt, and pulled himself up on his knees.

“Well met, Inquisitor,” Solona said, and smiled, her eyes still glowing.

The man reeled back, unable to find his voice.

The Inquisition’s Commander ran forth, his sword drawn, meaning to bar her passage; Marian grabbed his shoulder before he could, and put her staff in front of him.

“Trevelyan’s fine, Cullen, just let them go,” she said.

Cullen shook her off angrily, but didn't push forward to get in their way.

Solona moved on, carrying Loghain past the rest of the Inquisition forces and the surviving Grey Wardens, until they reached the ruined gates.

There, she commandeered a pair of horses, got him across a saddle, and they fled north until their mounts were exhausted. Tied to his horse like a sack, he slipped in and out of consciousness, woken by pain mostly. Solona healed him again when they camped, and the next day, and the next. He could almost sit a horse unaided by the time they reached her little house in Hunter Fell—now their house, their home.

They never spoke of that day afterwards. What she was, or what she had done to the most powerful man in Thedas at the time.

It didn't matter. Loghain might only have a few years left in him, but Solona was going to have them all.

Long after the Inquisition claimed its final victory, there were various stories about what happened at Adamant. Few of them included the mysterious woman who attacked the Inquisitor; none of them claimed Loghain survived the Fade.

Only a handful of people knew differently.

**Author's Note:**

> According to The Stolen Throne, Loghain is a little older than Maric, so I'm headcanoning his birthyear as 8:76 Blessed, so he's about 55 at the start of the story, and 65 by the end. Solona is 20 at the start, having been born in the summer of 9:11 Dragon, and is 30 by the end. So yeah, definitely a May/December romance.
> 
> I will never get over the fact that if Loghain is the Warden in Inquisition, he's carefully kept the maps that your Warden gave to him even though he's been running for his life. <3
> 
> Solona's name means "Sunshine", so I decided she has an uncanny resemblance to her cousin Bethany, who is deceased in this story but is nicknamed "Sunshine" by Varric if she's alive. 
> 
> If you're wondering how far apart some of the letters in Chapter 3 are, here's the "low" calendar Thedas uses, with a tweak changing August to Andrastine, as August was supposed to be named after Andraste but it was never updated in the lore. I put the English months next to them where they'd occur seasonally.
> 
> 1st month: Wintermarch - February - (Annum: First Day)  
> 2nd month: Guardian - March - (Spring Equinox - Annum: Wintersend)  
> 3rd month: Drakonis - April  
> 4th month: Cloudreach - May  
> 5th month: Bloomingtide - June - (Summer Solstice - Annum: Summerday)  
> 6th month: Justinian - July  
> 7th month: Solace - August  
> 8th month: ~~August~~ Andrastine - September-(Fall Equinox - Annum: All Soul's Day)  
> 9th month: Kingsway - October  
> 10th month: Harvestmere - November  
> 11th month: Firstfall - December - (Winter Solstice - Annum: Satinalia)  
> 12th month: Haring - January


End file.
